In All Seriousness
by pacphys
Summary: Something is wrong. Donatello can feel it, but what is it? A serious talk told by a completely irreverent narrator. No spoilers per se, but based on recent and upcoming events in the new cartoon.


**Summary: **Something is wrong. Donatello can feel it, but what is it? A serious talk told by a completely irreverent narrator.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own them. I make no money. I mean no harm. I would greatly appreciate it if the entities that have legal rights to these wonderful characters would refrain from suing me.

**A/N:** I wish I could make an excuse for this one. The best I can do... I was in a very strange mood when I wrote it.

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**In All Seriousness  
**

To the casual observer, Donatello was pacing. If that same observer were to watch a little more closely, he – it could not possibly be a she as the only two shes that the family knew were April, who did not yet know the location of their new home, and Karai, who would most likely not be merely observing – would notice that the turtle was not really pacing so much as going back and forth. 'What is the difference?' The observer might ask. Well, when one is pacing, one waits for something to come one's way. When one is going back and forth, one is debating whether or not one will make something come one's way. If the difference is too subtle then the observer might be better off remaining, or at the very least claiming to remain, casual.

Donatello almost knocked, almost initiated what he had been debating for so long now, but he dropped his hand to his side and walked away from the door again. His constant motion and agitated state was beginning to draw attention from inside the room whether he finally decided he wanted it or not. If he continued to go back and forth, he would soon find that he had really been pacing. Several feet from the door, the turtle looked back and headed that direction again only to get there, bite his lip and turn away once more. Two additional repetitions of the procedure were completed before Donatello actually knocked on the door.

"Yes, Donatello, you may come in." Splinter said from inside. How the wise rat always knew which son was outside his door, the observer would never know. It was a secret ninja master trick, that could not possibly be something as simple as knowing the footsteps of his family members, however quiet they may be, even when safe in their own home.

Don cautiously poked is head through the door and looked nervously at his father and sensei.

"Something troubles you, My son." Splinter observed wisely. He had utilized another ninja rat master trick that in no way had anything to do with having heard Donatello going back and forth outside the door for the past half hour or taking note of the look on the teen's face. "Do you wish to talk about it?" Of course, that could not possibly have been an obvious conclusion to draw under the circumstances. It would require many years of special training to have the finely honed senses to perceive that this might have been the reason for the turtle's presence in the room. Even more training would be required to know that Donatello was of two minds on the subject which Splinter, of course, did.

"Yes, Master Splinter." Don admitted quietly. Though, perhaps 'want' was not exactly the right word; 'need' was probably better suited. He moved into the room and seated himself on the small mat in front of the only father he had ever known. As he did so, he realized that he really did 'want' to talk in addition to the aforementioned need. He just did not know where to start.

Splinter was a patient rat. He sat and waited for Donatello to figure out his own mind and start the conversation. This was another special, ninja skill and could not possibly have anything to do with having raised, trained, cared for and gotten to know the turtle in front of him over the course of the past fifteen, almost sixteen, years.

"Master Splinter, have you ever felt like," Donatello hesitated for a moment as he chose his next words carefully, "something was wrong. Even if you didn't know why you felt that way, and you couldn't explain it?"

This was Master Splinter's cue to respond, and being the perceptive ninja master that he was, he did... with a question. "Do you feel that something is wrong, My son?"

Donatello gave a small nod in response. "I don't really know how to explain it, but something feels wrong or, at the very least, different."

"Hmm..." Master Splinter's noise of thought was really a carefully planned stalling tactic while he tried to come up with a question that was marginally better than asking outright what felt wrong as his carefully cultivated intuition told him that he had been repeatedly told that the turtle did not know what was causing this sensation. It also invited Donatello to continue, which he eventually did.

"I mean, it's not that I feel sick really. I just..." And Don trailed off there. Having gotten that far he, not being in possession of the vast experience and knowledge his father could lay claim to, realized that the rest of the sentence simply did not yet exist in his mind. It was quite possible that the rest of the sentence would never exist.

Donatello had revealed a vital clue that the ninja master was prepared to attack without mercy. The problem was physical. His son knew at least that much. Splinter was also aware that the turtle was a teen. Teens, the ninja master knew, were in the process of changing from children to adults. His considerable intuition told him that Donatello was likely experiencing some aspect of growing up that he did not understand. Even if the turtle could probably go on for hours on end about the biological aspects of adolescence including chemical names of hormones that might be likely culprits for causeing weird feelings of differentness.

"You are almost sixteen years old, My son." Splinter explained gently. "Your body is changing." Oh, if Splinter only knew how right he was. "You are still becoming an adult. It is natural for you to feel different, even feel like something is wrong."

Don looked up from the floor and met Master Splinter's eyes. He understood what he was being told, but the explanation did not feel right. The correct answer continued to elude him, but he was sure that what his father suggested was not it.

"I don't know, Sensei. This just..." He trailed off again and vowed to have a complete thought next time. Already his mind was working furiously in an attempt to come up with one. Just before Master Splinter had a chance to open his mouth, Donatello slipped in with his carefully prepared sentence.

"I understand what you're saying, but I really don't think that's it." A second sentence even managed to follow the first. "This doesn't just feel different; it feels wrong."

Splinter nodded and chose to take what his son was telling him into consideration. If Donatello was this insistent then it was quite possible that he was correct. After all, it would not be the first time that this particular turtle had been right about something.

"Come here, My son." Splinter ordered gently.

Donatello was quick to obey and scooted closer to the only other being that he was aware of in the room. He continued to move until he sat directly in front of Master Splinter. A gentle paw made its way to his shoulder and Don felt calmed by it. The touch of a ninja master with great knowledge of chi is a special thing, and the calming could not possibly have been a result of a mere fatherly gesture.

"The wise man understands that we are not meant to know the future." Splinter explained calmly. "We will watch for signs that something is wrong, Donatello." He assured his son.

Glancing up worriedly, Don looked Master Splinter directly in the eyes. The observer may recall Splinter pointing out earlier that Donatello is a teen. An adolescent who is, almost by definition, on the border of child and adult. Donatello the Adult had recognized that there was a problem, but Donatello the Scared Little Boy was the one who currently sat on the floor in front of his sensei and father. Scared Little Boy dropped his scared little eyes to the floor.

"In the meantime," Splinter added as he moved the paw to his son's chin and drew Donatello's eyes to his own, "do not worry. Worrying when there is not yet anything to worry about will only cause you unnecessary pain and anguish."

Now, this was likely good advice, but all the same, Donatello felt a little bit like he'd been told 'this could be horrible, awful and terrible, but no worries! Go play, have fun, dance in the busy streets!'

"Be prepared, vigilant and aware of yourself and your surroundings as you have been taught." Splinter added. "Know your options and be aware of what may happen: good or bad."

At this point, Donatello was almost able to hear how the next line would play out. He was almost certain that it would start with the word 'but' or something similar.

"But do not overly concern yourself with the darker possibilities."

Donatello so loved being right. For a moment, he considered what he had heard. As he thought about it the words slowly began to sink in and make sense.

"So, prepare for the worst, but hope for the best?" Don asked when he felt he had processed the information long enough.

"Exactly, My son." Splinter agreed.

Don frowned at the floor a moment in thought before looking back up at Splinter and nodding acceptance of the wise rat's words and the meaning behind them. The smile was quickly returned. A gentle touch from the powerful, ninja master rat gave the little boy enough reassurance that he crawled back into the space where Donatello the Adolescent usually kept him and allowed Donatello the Adult to show through a bit more.

"Thank you, Master Splinter." Don said with a short bow as he got up to leave the room. The careful – and and possibly even the casual – observer would note that the turtle who exited the room was much happier and more confident than the one who had gone in.

Time can be one's best friend or one's worst enemy. For now neither Donatello nor Splinter knew which, but they would find out soon enough.


End file.
